When the rain once again shattered the newly blooming pear blossoms on the branches, what I cried with the lingering fragrance on the ground was my heart that I thought would not cry.
I watched the rain alone on the porch, watching it fall from the sky and shatter into the bones of the earth.
With a slight sigh, I turned around and walked into the hall. On the study couch in the middle were the books of the old owner. I walked closer and flipped through it, and was suddenly startled.
I closed my eyes and the figure of that person emerged again.
I smiled slightly and looked at the pear tree in the yard with desolate eyes.
Maybe you are the only one who knows this story.